


Le Dragon et La Princesse

by evangelinerose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A secret princess, All the fun fairy tale tropes, Angst, Death, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Magic, Sexual Themes and Scenes, Talking Animals, etc etc - Freeform, fairy tale AU, light Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22584910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evangelinerose/pseuds/evangelinerose
Summary: Draco x Reader, Fairy Tale AU. A princess, for her own safety, is sent to a forest Arcadia with the details of her birth hidden; her travels and mishaps after hearing a prophecy cause her to stumble across a handsome prince, who comes from a neighboring kingdom.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Draco Malfoy/You, Secret Pairings
Comments: 36
Kudos: 82





	1. Jyrre

**Author's Note:**

> I promise this is mostly written and my other projects will continue updating (those waiting on ABY, there is finally an update coming next week for that one).
> 
> Story Info: This is an AU of the French fairy tale “Le Pigeon et la Colombe” by Marie Catherine d’Aulnoy. Very AU. There will be some similarities with some of the premises but generally it is way different.
> 
> Warnings: Mature. The fic contains themes about death, murder, violence and the like, and also language and sexual themes/scenes. Smut?? TBD. As always, individual chapter warnings will be in the notes, usually at the end. For this chapter warnings are: language? mentions of violence, death, curses, lots of misfortune, etc etc.

_There once was a king and queen, and although they, unlike their violent and vicious neighboring kingdom, were benevolent and peaceful, they seemed to be followed by nothing but curses._

_For many years as they tried to bear children they knew nothing but sorrow, for one child after the other died immediately upon entering the world. Until finally, one day, they vowed only to try once more, since their hearts were too full of aching despair and loss to bear more.  
_

_Many moons later the queen gave birth to a little girl, and though she survived the birth she was still carefully attended to over the first day of her life, with the king and queen fearfully expecting the worst.  
_

_However, luck was on their side. The child survived, and they named her Y/N, and for many years they finally knew happiness with their daughter. But on the eve before the girl princess turned sixteen, her father the king fell ill with a mysterious virus, and after many weeks of sickness the queen, grief-stricken, called desperately on the expertise of a witch._

_And so they_ _both_ _sat,_ _each clutching the dying king’s hands, waiting on her arrival and holding on to hope…_

The witch that had been summoned swept in to the king’s chambers, and the princess and queen quickly stood to greet her.

She was very strange looking to their eyes. She wore beaded bracelets and necklaces and wrapped herself in a shawl, despite the fact that it was approaching summer. Her eyes were large and wide and every few seconds they would become unfocused, as if her mind fluttered briefly elsewhere. Her hair was long and curly but flat and limp, and she looked distinctly impoverished.

“What are you called, witch?” asked the queen.

“They call me Sybill,” said the witch, and though Princess Y/N had been expecting a croak she found that her voice was actually quite melodic, soft and comforting. “But her Majesty the Queen may call me whatever pleases her.” She curtsied low, her jewelry clattering clumsily on her neck.

“What magic can you do, Sybill?” the queen questioned, her voice wavering anxiously. “Can you save the king, my beloved husband?”

“I can do all magic, my queen,” replied Sybill, “And I also have magic and wisdom others do not, for I am a Seer; and so I can tell you what will come to pass.” And suddenly she paused, closing her eyes and bowing her head for a long moment before she continued, in a voice twisted with anguish while finally peering at the queen again with those large, shimmering eyes, “And I am afraid that I must give you dreadful news concerning all of your fates, your Majesty.”

The queen glanced to her daughter, who was unaware of the years of misery and death that had preceded her birth.

But she was nearing womanhood, and she could not be sheltered forever, and so the queen decided not to send her away, but to allow the princess to remain and hear what the witch had to say. “Very well,” said the queen, straightening her spine and preparing herself for the worst.

“Mother–” began Y/N, sounding very strained, but the queen silenced her.

“Quiet, child,” she said firmly. “Some things you must learn to hear, however unpleasant, especially if you wish to one day rule.”

Sybill the witch clasped her hands together and fixed her gaze on the queen; but then her eyes began to rapidly move in and out of focus, and she began to tremble. Princess Y/N took a step back, disconcerted, reaching desperately for her father’s cold, weak hand and clutching to it tightly.

When the witch finally spoke her voice was deep and harsh, and both the queen and the princess knew that she was seeing something very far away.

“A curse has twice befallen your family,” said Sybill, gasping and shuddering. “A curse of spite and evil, in the hopes of diminishing your kingdom and wiping out your rule. The first lasted many years and was broken with the death of the one who cast it, and it was after that your daughter was born; the second has just been cast, and this caster has the same blood as the first…”

“Who is the caster?” demanded the queen, fists clenched, but Sybill gasped again, her whole body shaking with the effort of being a true oracle, and she could not see the queen, nor could she directly answer her questions.

“She has returned home,” continued Sybill. “She has returned with a stranger, and she has cast the curse upon your family so that the one who ascends to the throne with your blood shall always fall ill and die…it is too late for the King. And as soon as the Queen becomes regent she, too, shall fall ill…”

Princess Y/N began to cry, and the queen could not hold back a strangled sound of dismay, covering her mouth with her hands, but after a moment she composed herself and asked quite calmly, “Will I, too, die?”

Sybill’s eyes returned to normal, slowly, the strange light in them fading as her gaze returned to reality and settled on the queen. “I do not know,” said Sybill, “I can care for you from the beginning, your Majesty, and perhaps that can keep you alive as it could not save your husband, though I believe you would still remain permanently bedridden. And I saw quite clearly that the caster targets your child, with hate and malice, and if you shall die and the princess becomes regent in your stead, she, too, shall fall ill.”

It was quiet for a few long moments except for the sounds of the princess sobbing wretchedly.

“So be my fate,” said the queen finally, very quietly. “But we must protect my daughter.”

“I can hide her, your Majesty,” said Sybill helpfully, among the still faster falling tears of the princess. “No one will know that she is a princess; in fact, no one must know of her at all. It is safest this way. She shall live in an Arcadia, a woodland paradise, and no curse can follow her there.”

“I don’t want to go,” cried Y/N, sweeping forward to the queen and reaching for her. “Please, Mother…”

“You must,” said the queen, and though she was firm her voice was gentle. “It is the only way.” She turned back and nodded stiffly at Sybill. “Very well. Make the arrangements, Sybill, and then you must take her there tonight. Now leave us, so that we may say goodbye to our king and grieve together.”

“At once, your Majesty,” said Sybill, bowing low again.

And, still accompanied by the sound of faint jingling, she shuffled over to the door to the chambers and let herself out.

* * *

_The Arcadia is an ancient place, a place of harmony and magic, where nature is plentiful and peaceful and everything the eye can see is more beautiful than thousands of glittering jewels._

_Princess Y/N lived in the Arcadia for two years, and her life was equal parts bliss and pain._

_For while the Arcadia was, quite literally, a place of utter perfection and she was content in the environment–content to read her books or write, or teach herself to shoot a bow at the bark of the trees, or to spend time with the woodland creatures, whom she loved deeply and they loved her–her worry for her mother was still great, and she ached for home._

_Her isolation was such that she only received news whenever Sybill could leave the kingdom to pay her a visit, and though each visit was dotted with warnings, there was only one in which Sybill once again fell into a deep trance, narrating of something life-changing that would come to pass…_

The first time Sybill came to her, Y/N had been in the forest paradise for two months.

That day she had climbed a tree and was staring at the horizon, wondering just how far the Arcadia and safety extended, or whether it was even something that she could voluntarily leave at all.

It was when she climbed down that she saw the witch waiting for her, sitting comfortably on the soft grass in the clearing of the forest. Barefoot, the princess cautiously made her way over to her. The witch had her eyes closed and was humming carefully to herself, deep in meditation, but she stopped and opened her eyes when the princess’s foot snapped a twig right before she sank down tiredly beside Sybill, watching the witch warily.

“Your mother lives,” said Sybill gently. “My attempts to keep her alive are working well, though as I predicted she remains almost constantly in her chambers.”

The tight feeling in Y/N’s chest loosened just a little, though it didn’t disappear, and neither did the terrible sadness. But before she could reply, Sybill continued, in a voice that was both even and sympathetic, “I sense your desire to escape the Arcadia, princess.”

“I want to find the caster,” said Y/N, eyes suddenly burning fiercely.

“This I already know,” said Sybill, “But you must not leave this place. It is for your protection. If your mother shall die while you roam outside the borders, you would immediately fall prey to the curse.”

The princess picked some blades of grass, strewing them about the ground, and her features twisted suddenly in an expression of anguish and fury. “ _Why_?” she burst out. “Why is the caster doing this?”

“Because you will have a gift, dear one,” Sybill replied. “I have seen it, and, I believe, so have they.” When Princess Y/N gave her a look of dismay, Sybill just smiled vaguely. “But we also have much to be thankful for. The caster does not know you have fled, and they do not even know your name nor your age, and not even your gender. All the caster knows, I believe, is that they must keep the threat to their power contained, and that they need the child of the king and queen dead.”

But before Y/N could ask more questions about this mysterious gift or declare that she was in no way a threat to someone’s power–all she wanted was to live with her mother and father again, for them to have their health and to live in peace–Sybill was gone, leaving Y/N once again alone in the Arcadia.

The second time was five months later, and this time Sybill found the princess carefully lining an arrow into her bow and firing it expertly at a knot on the tree, where it stuck with a resounding thud. She strode forward to retrieve it, and when she was pulling it out with swift fingers, she addressed the witch behind her. “Hello, Sybill,” said Princess Y/N, without even turning around.

“Your ears have improved,” commented Sybill, pleased.

“They have,” agreed Y/N quietly. “I heard you coming long before you reached this clearing.”

“What do you use that bow and arrow for?” asked Sybill. “Do you hunt?”

“I will not harm the creatures who live among me,” said Y/N, sounding aghast as she turned to finally face the witch. Sybill was struck suddenly by how different her face was–older, the lines of it clearly more mature, and it was no longer timid. She even held herself differently; five more months in the Arcadia had already changed her. “They love me, and I them, and I would never bring them to harm. I never want to hear such a suggestion come out of your mouth again.”

Sybill blinked. She was not used to being chastised by the young princess. “Your affinity to the creatures is stronger than you can imagine, child,” she began, but Y/N turned resolutely back to the tree and fired another arrow at it. It hit the same spot as before, with exactly the same force.

“I am no child,” said the princess stiffly, lowering her bow and glancing at the witch. “Now stop speaking in riddles, and tell me the news of my mother.”

“She is still alive, though still ill,” said Sybill, bowing her head. “But she does not have much pain, and she will be pleased to know how well her daughter has grown.”

“I want to see her for myself,” insisted Y/N, striding forward. For the first time in this interaction, Sybill could see in her eyes the glimpse of the child she had known before; the hint of pleading and hope that flashed in them.

“Your mother has forbidden me to take you from here,” said Sybil gently. “I will not disobey her. I am sorry, princess.”

Y/N pursed her lips, turned on her heel, and quickly fired yet another arrow, which landed precisely next to the other two, the end quivering from the strength of the shot. When she looked at Sybill again, there were tears glittering in her eyes, but they did not fall. “Very well,” she said, and then she strode off into the trees, leaving the witch to return to the kingdom and tend to the ailing queen.

The third time Sybill visited her, Y/N had been in the Arcadia for one year and five months. The differences were even more pronounced, and there was no doubt to the witch that it was now a woman standing across from her. 

She was lean and muscular, and she wore clothes made from leaves and vines that did not restrict her movement. She still carried her bow and arrow, and this time she had animals surrounding her–foxes, sheep, deer, birds hovering near her head, never getting too far away from their woodland master…

But her eyes and the set of her mouth were less bitter, and this time, although it had been nearly a year since they had seen each other last, the princess smiled gently. Sybill could see the concern playing in her eyes, and she looked kind, and the expression so reminded her of the queen that the witch felt a pang to her heart, and she wished that she could make these women happy.

“I fear you are here to deliver bad news, because it has been so long since we last met,” said Princess Y/N simply. One of the foxes beside her nudged her hand, and she softly stroked its fur.

“No,” said Sybill proudly. “Your mother still lives. It strains my magic, and the illness grows more powerful, but she lives, and I believe I can keep her alive for some time yet. Perhaps even a year or more.”

“Thank you, Sybill,” said Y/N. “You have saved us.”

“I wish I could do more to lift the curse, princess, but I fear the caster must die for it to break,” she said regretfully. “Though I am glad to see you happy here with your creatures.”

“They listen to me,” she said. “I understand them.”

“I know,” said Sybill.

It was then that the witch’s eyes again began to roll, and to spin out of focus very rapidly; the wind in the wood picked up so that some of the leaves on the ground swirled and the branches swayed, and the princess knew from her experience nearly two years ago that the witch was becoming an oracle, and that she was seeing something in the future. The animals stirred at her side, clearly uncomfortable with the magic in the air; she sent them away, to spare them their stress, and continued to watch her beloved witch as Sybill’s mouth opened and she began to speak, in that unnaturally deep voice that signified a predication.

“Your dragon you shall meet,” boomed Sybill, and the princess stepped back, eyes widening. “And he will love you and cherish you to the ends of the world, and you shall do the same for him. The bond between you and the dragon will not be breakable; he will brave great danger for you, and you for him, and it is your actions that will determine the fate of the kingdoms…”

She coughed and shuddered, as if emerging from a pool of ice cold water, or perhaps being submerged in it, and then her eyes returned to normalcy, and her vision returned to see Princess Y/N full of shock.

“Dragons?” she whispered. “Are they not a mere myth?”

Sybill clutched at her head, at the prickling of pain that was irritating her brain. Whatever she had just seen, it was something big. Something important.

“I do not know, princess,” she replied, wincing a little at the steady pounding behind her eyes. “I could not see the beast, and I have never seen such creatures.”

“Then I shall try to find him,” said Princess Y/N fiercely, standing up straighter and clutching her bow tightly.

* * *

_And so the princess set out on a journey through her Arcadia, knowing that wherever she may find herself that Sybill would be able to come to her, but not knowing whether or not she would discover a dragon here; if they were even real at all and not figments of the people’s imaginations._

_For months she traveled through the natural beauty of the forest, learning the land even more as she went, and she traveled for so far and for so long that she began to despair of ever finding what she was looking for. The books that she had read about dragons did not help her find one, though she thought that she recalled that they lived in the mountains, and not forests._

_Still, she pressed on, her forest creatures with her, for she needed a goal to keep her busy._

_It was by sheer luck that she stumbled across a dragon’s lair, the mouth of which was at the base of an old tree, and she had to climb down and slip among the gigantic roots to see inside. And when she found him she was shocked to discover that not only was it quite a small dragon (though still so very large to her eyes), but he also seemed to be lost and far from home._

_The dragon opened one gigantic orange eye._

_And despite Sybill’s prophecy that she was destined to love and cherish her dragon and he was to love and cherish her, she was frightened, and she began to stumble backward with a little squeak of fear.  
_

_But the dragon merely observed her for a long moment, carefully, and it was in that moment that she received the biggest surprise of all…_

“Hello,” said the dragon calmly, and this time the princess actually did trip and fall over completely, crashing to the ground with a complete lack of grace.

“You–you can _speak_!” she gasped out, because this was almost too much. Dragons existed, _and_ they spoke. Or at least _she_ could hear it speaking, though perhaps she had just been alone too long.

“Yes,” confirmed the dragon, sounding very nonchalant about the matter. He shifted, carefully adjusting his body so that he could see Princess Y/N more fully. He appraised her for a long moment. “I detect both a gentleness and a fierceness in you,” he said seriously. “You are not the first human I have met, but you are indeed different from the others.”

“And you’re the first dragon I’ve ever met,” she whispered, standing and stepping forward very tentatively. Thinking better of it, she pointedly set down her bow and arrow before advancing another few steps, fascinated.

“You have laid down your weapon,” said the dragon, and for some reason he sounded amused. “You do not intend to slay me?”

“No,” she said softly. “Certainly not.”

“That is good,” said the dragon. “Because I promise that you would not succeed. I have killed many who have tried. I may be small, but I am fierce, and my flames scorch human flesh in mere seconds.”

Princess Y/N halted, heart pounding. “Are you going to harm me?”

“No,” said the dragon, very thoughtfully. The orange eyes were moving over her with great interest. “There is something about you. I know I should not hurt you.”

“What’s your name?” Y/N pressed eagerly, though she still stood her ground. She longed to go and touch that scaly skin, partially to convince herself that all of this was real, but she knew that keeping her distance at first, unless invited further forward, was probably for the best.

“I am Jyrre,” he told her. “I have been injured, but now I am healed, and today I finally want to fly.”

“I’m Y/N,” she replied. Her heart was still beating erratically in her chest, but her voice sounded calm, and for that she was proud. “And a Seer once told me that I would find a dragon,” she told him. “That is why I am here, Jyrre. She told me that our bond would be unbreakable. I believe I am to be your rider.”

Jyrre the dragon watched her again for a very long time before replying. “Well then,” he told her, “Perhaps you would like to come flying with me, Y/N.”

Twenty minutes later, Jyrre was out in the forest and preparing for flight, and Y/N was awkwardly trying to clamber onto his back. Y/N had become something of an expert climber, but trees were obviously very different from the smooth, slippery scales of a dragon’s skin, and she was reluctant to do anything that would cause him any pain. “Dig your fingers in,” commanded Jyrre, when she tumbled down for the fifth time. “Even your arrows would not be able to pierce my hide, Y/N. Nor even human swords.”

And so she did, though with much trepidation, and when Jyrre didn’t complain she continued on just as he suggested, eventually making her way to the top of his back. She curled her legs to the side, uncertain how to sit on a dragon, and scooted up as far as possible so that she might clutch to his neck while they flew, because there was really nothing else she could think to hold on to.

“Ready?” rumbled Jyrre.

“Yes,” she called back, though she was really nothing of the sort.

The world was already small from up here, and when the dragon began to beat his wings up and down, first slowly and then rapidly picking up speed to lift himself off the ground, she let out a cry of surprise at the rushing wind that came whenever his wings moved powerfully through the air; it was so much that she had to lean forward and desperately grip at his neck.

Matters were not improved by the way that his body slightly rotated and titled due to the movement of the wings, and so she found herself slipping and sliding, and suddenly very afraid.

“Jyrre!” she cried out, but she was not loud enough over the noise of take off.

The dragon rose higher and higher in the air, with the princess barely keeping her grip by digging in her fingers and still desperately and irrationally hoping that she was not hurting him. She was just getting used to the vertical advance in the air, however, when Jyrre shot forward, clearly eager after so much time without flying and forgetting that perhaps a human with no flying experience on a dragon would need some warning, or at least a slower adjustment to a change in direction.

Even digging her fingers in wasn’t enough. The sudden lurch forward (which was already equivalent to at least a few miles from the starting point) sent her cascading off to the side. She cried out again, but the wind was whistling by so loudly that perhaps the dragon again could not hear her, nor was she heavy enough for him to feel that she was no longer where she should be.

Princess Y/N slid completely off the dragon’s side, narrowly missing the beatings wings and falling at full speed all the way to the ground below.

* * *

_The princess fell through trees on her way down from the dragon’s back, greatly injuring her head and breaking multiple bones all over her body. But the trees, at least, slowed the fall as she tumbled through the branches, which saved her life when she finally landed with a resounding splash in a rushing river._

_And she would not have normally survived, had it not been for the animals of the forest that came to her aid, for they loved her so; and it was they who dragged her out of the water to keep her from drowning. And it was also they who devised a plan among themselves, and, knowing there was a stranger in their forest that could help, decided to try and lure him in the direction of their princess.  
_

_So it was that Princess Y/N, unable to move and just about to slide into unconsciousness while she lay there on the riverbank in great and terrible pain, was found by a man, though he wasn’t just any man…_

He was very fair, with white-blonde hair, and she was hazily able to note that his gray eyes were piercing and his features were handsome. She felt his arms slip around her to carefully prop her up onto his lap, for he had knelt on the ground to examine her injuries.

“Relax,” she vaguely heard him say anxiously. “You’re very injured, my lady…”

“Where am I?” she wheezed out with great difficulty.

“The Kingdom of Wiltshire,” he replied. “You’ve clearly knocked your head, but I think I can fix that as well…just lie still…” He had a sudden look of concentration on his face, and she felt a hand place itself gently on her ribs. She was too weak and surprised to flinch away from the contact, but she felt a sudden warmth spread from the places where his fingertips rested, and the pain in that part of her body was beginning to rapidly fade, though she still felt very dizzy.

“Who…are you?” she whispered, closing her eyes.

“Draco Malfoy,” he answered, and something in her brain clicked.

There was something about that name, wasn’t there?

Draco. Draco. _Draco_.

But she was too woozy to think what it was at the moment. She was too woozy for anything.

She couldn’t even open her eyes. Even though the pain in her abdomen was still fading, she felt herself slipping away into darkness.


	2. The Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was born to a powerful royal family under a constellation in the night sky for which he was named.

_There once was a prince, and he believed malicious lies through no fault of his own.  
_

_The prince would tell his story like this:_

_He was born to a powerful royal family under a constellation in the night sky for which he was named. His family was one of the most wealthy and influential in all the lands, and it was his birthright to rule after his father before him.  
_

_His father the king taught him from a young age that he was special, and that their kingdom was unique, and for many years of his life the prince knew only happiness and love. He was doted upon, and he knew this was because for many years his parents had been unable to conceive, which meant that he, their only son, was the most important thing in their world._

_He learned the art of battle, as all princes were required to do, but his interest was far more focused on the art of another skill, a skill that ran in his family’s veins and made him more special and powerful yet:  
_

_Magic._

_For years the prince had practiced his craft, delighting in making light dance from his hands, from making people or things move as he wanted, to make potions and to heal, hex, and curse.  
_

_He showed no interest in marrying, and that was all for the better, because his father and especially his mother were not yet ready for him to take a bride._

_The prince had many parts of his own story wrong..._

Draco Malfoy allowed his gaze to sweep over the sleeping woman for what must have been the hundredth time, lingering especially long on her face.

Prince Draco had appreciated many beautiful women in his life, and there was no shortage of them in his kingdom; and, being a prince, he could have had any that threw themselves at him. But this one was most curious, because he was very aware that she should not be beautiful to him. He should see her as a savage, because she was quite clearly a forest dweller; she was dressed in leaves and vines, her feet were bare and dirty, and her hair was tangled and matted.

He had also pondered for a long time what could have led to such extensive injuries, and he only could conclude that she must have fallen a long way, because as he had healed her ribs he could tell at least one or two had snapped from impact. He had felt them repair under his magical fingertips.

His father the king and his mother the queen had always despised the forest dwellers that they claimed plagued Wiltshire, and Draco was uncertain what had led him to jump to such immediate action when he had seen the woman lying there in pools of her own blood, her body bent in strange, concerning angles.

But something had lurched in his chest, deeply and violently, and a feeling–a very subtle one that even he didn’t fully understand–had warned him that if he let her die, something very terrible would happen.

And so here he sat, waiting for her to wake up as the forest began to fall into twilight around him.

He wondered if his mother was already frantic. She did not like to be uninformed about his plans or whereabouts, and he had not told her nor his father that he was going walking in the forest today.

The woman’s eyes did a microscopic little flutter, and Prince Draco sat up straighter.

She slowly blinked as she came to, her face hazy and neutral until she caught sight of him sitting on a log some feet away from her. 

She let out a little shriek and tried to scoot backward along the ground as quickly as possible, reaching instinctively behind her for her bow and the arrows she had kept on her back; she winced at the soreness of her muscles and the pain deep in her bones, struggling to remember what had happened. The look on her face clearly showed dismay when her fingers did not settle on her weapons.

“Your bow and arrow are over there,” Draco drawled, giving her an amused smile and pointing at them. Her eyes flicked over and then fixed on him again, warily. “Though I’d advise you not to use them on me,” he continued lightly. “I have a sword as well as other means to hurt you, and I’d hate to have to do that after all my hard work making sure you stayed alive.”

He watched as her eyes widened and then swept over him, and, looking mildly confused, her hands flew seemingly subconsciously to her ribs. And then her face flooded with a dawning comprehension. “I was…badly injured,” she said slowly.

“Correct,” he said, arching an eyebrow at her. “How did that happen?”

She ignored his question. “You saved me?” 

She was still watching him with some caution but now also with a newfound curiosity. And although Draco felt the overwhelming urge to move closer to her, he stayed put on the log he was sitting on.

“Also correct,” he replied, crossing his arms with a still amused little smile.

“How?”

He chuckled quietly. “Aren’t you going to thank me first? And address me by my proper title?”

“I–your title?”

She was clearly still a little disoriented, and again, Prince Draco briefly wondered what in the world she had been doing to injure herself so. “You don’t recognize your prince?” he asked, tilting his head.

“My…” Her mouth opened a little as she stared at him. “Where am I?” she demanded suddenly, frowning.

His brow furrowed in thought. “Forest dwellers are quite rude, aren’t they? I’ve never met one before. I suppose it’s all that lack of human interaction. Well, never mind–you’re _welcome_ for saving your life, my lady,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “And as I told you before you lost consciousness, I am Draco Malfoy and you are in my kingdom.”

“Draco…” She suddenly gasped and pointed wildly at him. “But–but that name means _dragon_!”

“Ah, so your people are educated then, are they?” he asked, feeling very confused. He had always been told by his father and mother that the forest dwellers were backward savages; but _she_ spoke normally and could clearly read, and what was more, she didn’t _seem_ savage.

Again, he let his eyes sweep over her as she avoided answering and carefully got to her feet, brushing herself off. Clearing his throat, he also stood from the log, but she hardly took any notice of his movement, clearly not afraid of him anymore. She was wringing her hands and peering around the forest very anxiously instead. 

“It’s getting dark,” Prince Draco said finally. “Where will you go, my lady?”

“I have to get back,” she was mumbling, though mostly to herself. “I can’t be here, it isn’t safe, I can’t be here…I’ve no idea how to get back…”

Against his better judgment, Draco took a few steps forward, feeling a sudden rush of protectiveness. “I’m sure we can find a place for you at my court…” he began uncertainty.

“ _No_!” How very adamant she was made him blink in shock, and she quickly looked rather mortified at her outburst. “I...cannot accept that kind offer, my prince,” she finally said softly. And to his surprise–and delight–she began to walk toward him, now observing him more intensely than she had since she woken. She stopped a few paces before him, her eyes moving up and down his frame, inching up to his face, and when she finally locked gazes with him Draco found that it was impossible for him to swallow.

This was only made worse when she reached out and placed her hand on his jaw, experimentally, and moved her thumb across his face. He could see the marvel in her eyes, as if she was uncertain that he was real, and Draco’s entire body was now on fire, but it wasn’t an unwelcome one.

“What are you doing?” he rasped, far more weakly than he had intended.

“Thanking you,” she whispered. “And taking this opportunity to try something before I may never see another human man again.”

And then she leaned up and kissed him.

For a split second, Prince Draco was frozen, unable to process what was happening.

A woman had _never_ been so bold as to kiss him like that, and especially not as a first kiss. At his court women were supposed to be meek and shy, and allow the man to lean down to capture their lips; but never the other way around. And he was a _prince_!

But after the initial shock he reached up to hold her face, and he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her, and how was it that she both tasted and smelled like everything wonderful about nature? How could she smell like pine and moss and flowers, and taste so delightful, like citrus and vanilla? He felt her sigh and melt against him, and her fingers came to his neck, and he pulled her closer, kissing her deeper, slipping his tongue to dance on her bottom lip; she gasped, and then, though Draco wasn’t quite sure how it happened, they were kissing furiously, desperately, as if the other person was their only source of oxygen, and Draco had the strangest sense that she _was._

“I have to go,” she said, breaking away from him quickly and breathing hard. “I must hurry.”

“Why?” Draco asked hoarsely, feeling her slip out of his grasp and opening his eyes. She was looking up at him with something new on her face, but he couldn’t quite detect what it was. “Let me help you…come back with me…”

“I can’t,” she mumbled. He saw sadness flash on her face before she turned stiffly to go, and again, something compelled him to speak.

“Come with me!” he called after her as she quickly retreated. “Come with me, my lady, I’ll make sure that you are safe at court, no harm shall come to you, and–and please! What’s your name?”

She turned once and gave him one last small smile. “Goodbye, Prince Draco,” was all she said regretfully, and then she had turned and hurried into the trees, disappearing from his view.

_And the prince, after standing frozen there for some time, returned to his court; but his mind remained on the young woman he met in the forest._

_He thought perhaps a few weeks would cure him of his woes, absolve him from what had quickly become what felt like an incessant need to see her again; he had thought that sharing one kiss–even if it had been a wonderful one–with a mysterious forest dweller was something he could surely forget._

_But to his dismay, the prince realized that he could not forget her, and nor did he really, truly want to.  
_

_The young woman was almost always on his thoughts, even many weeks later, and he began taking more frequent walks in the forest in the hopes of discovering her again, or at least with the hope of discovering whether or not she was still alive and well.  
_

_But though all his searching was in vain, that only made the prince more determined to find her.  
_

_He wanted to believe that fate and happenstance would bring the young woman to him again, but he wasn’t quite sure that he believed in fate._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: sexual themes, sort of?? if so very light. also, mentions of violence, blood, & injuries


	3. The Caster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The princess told the dragon her story, and of the need to return to the Arcadia, and he agreed to accompany her, because now wherever the princess went, the dragon would go also. Draco x Reader, Fairy Tale AU.

_After the princess fled from the prince, her plan was twofold: she knew she must find Jyrre again, and that she must also make her way back to the safety of her Arcadia._

_But in her heart she was sad, for part of her wished that she could have followed Prince Draco to his court. Despite the fact that he had not known that she was royalty, he had wanted her to go with him, and she found that her mind wandered to him often as she traipsed the forest that night, once more surrounded by the protection of her woodland creatures as she searched for Jyrre._

_When she found the dragon she was surprised to find that he was already searching rather desperately for her, and he was so relieved that he even tenderly wrapped her in a hug in one of his wings; and he told her that the despair he had felt when he had realized she had fallen had only confirmed that there was something special about her to him._

_The princess told the dragon her story, and of the need to return to the Arcadia, and he agreed to accompany her, because now wherever the princess went, the dragon would go also._

_And just as Sybill had promised, her bond with Jyrre was unshakable, something natural and, now that the bond existed, something both could not imagine their lives without. And they spent their days mostly happy in the forest, and she practiced flying with him until she no longer feared falling._

_The best part, for the princess, was to have someone to converse with again. For while she could talk with the forest creatures they could not, of course, speak back to her. But Jyrre could, and he was quick-witted and cared deeply for her. She could share everything with her dragon, and he was always eager to help his princess. And it was during one of their many conversations some weeks later that made the princess form a plan to leave her safe place, unable to stay put any longer…_

“Are you ever going to tell me,” said Jyrre suddenly, as he and the princess were stretched out lazily near the banks of a magnificent and gigantic lake, enjoying the crippling heat of summer, “Why exactly there has been sadness in you since we reunited, that day we met? Are you upset that I let you fall, princess?” He rolled over onto his back and snorted, puffs of smoke coming out of his nose; his red and purple scales rippled beautifully in the powerful sunshine beating onto his hide.

“No!” she insisted, turning to look at him. “Did you really think that?”

“I was not certain,” the dragon mused. “The sadness is there, at any rate.”

“How do you know that?” Princess Y/N pressed, to keep from answering.

“Dragons have our own magic,” replied Jyrre. “You know that. And you also know that even among dragons, I am very intelligent.” He paused. "Also, it has not escaped my notice that you never told me how you healed after the fall. It really should have killed you, though I am truly glad it did not.”

The princess felt a heat creep onto her face that had nothing to do with the summer day. “Someone healed me,” she told her dragon. “I think he was magic, like the witch who put me here.”

Jyrre rolled over so that he was lying on his belly again, his gigantic orange eyes ranging over her very thoughtfully. He sounded amused when he spoke again. “I see. Is my princess smitten?” She was barely able to open her mouth to protest (weakly, and horribly, because it was so very true) when Jyrre spoke again, and the tone of his voice was even more entertained than before. “Oh, yes, you are. I can feel that, too. Tell me about him.”

“He was a prince,” she sighed. “A handsome prince, and…” She stopped, sighing wistfully.

“And?” prodded Jyrre.

“His name was Draco Malfoy,” she told him, giving him a significant look. “Draco. _Dragon_.”

There was a long pause. “Interesting,” said Jyrre. “And naturally, your human sentimentality makes you believe that this means you are destined for him, yes? That it is fate. Or, perhaps, that the prophecy you heard concerning dragons does not only involve me?”

“I would very much like to see him again,” the princess admitted. “At least to find out. When he kissed me, it felt truly… _magical_. Like in the storybooks my mother read me as a child.” She sighed again, gazing dreamily out onto the lake for a long while, but then she blinked, coming back into herself and into the cold reality of it all. “But he did not know I was a princess, nor can he ever. And you know very well that I cannot leave the Arcadia, Jyrre. I do not believe it is meant to be.” She suddenly sat up. “But I have a question about you now.”

“Of course, Y/N,” he answered, his voice full of affection.

“I should have asked long ago. Where do you come from, Jyrre?”

To her surprise, her dragon looked suddenly very uncomfortable. While it was true that Jyrre clearly did not have facial expressions as a human did, there were hints that she had learned over the time that she had spent with him, hints that pointed to a shift in mood. One of the most telling ways that she could detect Jyrre was uncomfortable was his silences. There were comfortable silences, and then there were pauses where she knew he was weighing his words very carefully.

“I was rather hoping you would not ask,” he finally said quietly, and Y/N felt not only a sinking in her heart but also a desperate curiosity mixed with a strangling sort of fear.

“Why not?” she asked, trying to sound calm.

“It was a place of pain and suffering, and I do not like to be reminded of it, nor do I want to speak about it,” he answered solemnly. “I am sorry. Perhaps some day I can tell you more. But I spent my whole life there, and you found me shortly after. Have you never wondered why I did not grow properly, my princess? Or why I had been injured when you found me?”

She felt her blood run cold. It was fear again, but it was also something else: rage.

“Oh, Jyrre,” she replied, her voice wavering a little. “Then do not speak of it. Not if it upsets you so. And certainly do not apologize to me for that.”

The silence settled in around them again, and though it wasn’t uncomfortable, Y/N desperately wished she could think of something else to say. Telling Jyrre that her mind was now full of revenge plots for anyone who had dared to hurt her dragon, however, did not seem like a wise thing to do.

But finally Jyrre spoke again, though he was changing the subject.

“You said this prince was magical. Which kingdom was he from?” he asked.

Something in his voice made the princess look up and at him again. “Wiltshire,” she told him, and when he was silent for a long time, she began to feel a little panicked. “What is it?” she asked quickly.

“Some months ago, before I met my princess,” said Jyrre, and his voice still had that halting, careful tone that had made the princess take notice before, “I heard that a witch rules that kingdom.”

There was a long, heavy silence once again as Princess Y/N let the information wash over her and seep in so that she could process what, exactly, that meant–what Jyrre was suggesting–and it came to her slowly and horribly.

“His mother? But…you don’t think…” She shook her head furiously, hands flying up to cover her mouth.

“Yes,” said Jyrre solemnly. “I do. I think that she could be the caster, Y/N. And if you ever wanted to be free of your curse–”

“She would have to die,” finished Y/N miserably, closing her eyes tightly.

“Perhaps I can go and see if I can find some more information about the Queen of Wiltshire,” suggested Jyrre. “And you can remain safely here until I return.”

“No!” she said fiercely. “I will not let you go alone.”

“Are you sure this is about me and not Draco Malfoy?” The dragon sounded amused again, but then a warning laced his tone. “Do not let your heart be too invested in him yet, princess. You do not know him, and if his mother is indeed the caster, perhaps he cannot be trusted.”

“It _is_ about you,” she insisted, frowning. “Though I have already admitted to a curiosity about the prince as well. But more importantly, it is _my_ curse and my problem to solve, Jyrre, and I want to come.”

He studied her a moment. “Then we should make it as brief as possible,” he told her. “Only a few days at most. We do not want to risk you falling ill with that curse outside the borders of the Arcadia.”

_And so the princess and her dragon hatched a plan to fly to the borders of Wiltshire, to try and begin to determine whether the queen could be the caster, though the thought of Prince Draco’s mother being her adversary made the princess deeply distressed._

_Once at the borders of the kingdom they waited out of sight in the forest, but near enough to the road so that Jyrre, with his uncanny ability to see across incredibly long distances, could detect anyone who approached. It was decided that if they caught sight of some travelers, the princess may be able to join them and, disguised as a peasant woman, could try to subtly get some information about the kingdom and its rulers, especially the queen._

_The road was mostly empty today, and they had to wait some hours before Jyrre finally spotted something coming down the road. A wagon, he said, intricately designed, white and expensive and pulled by horses and a driver; seeing an opportunity, the princess and her dragon crept as closely as possible to the edge of the forest without being detected, and where the road was in view…_

Princess Y/N had just pulled the hood of the peasant’s cloak over her head as the wagon drew ever closer, prepared to walk out into the road and try to speak to the driver so that she might meet the passengers he carried. Perhaps if she pretended she needed help, that would be best. Her mind was whirring with thoughts and her heart was palpitating as she heard the rough sounds of the carriage wheels coming on the dirt road, occasionally cracking against a rock, and she waited.

She could tell that the wagon was just about to come into view and she would have to step out any second now by how much louder she could hear it approaching now. She saw it begin to pass, and took a deep breath.

She was about to step out and follow through with her plan when, to her surprise, others stepped onto the path first–others that had been crouched across the road as well, though on the opposite side.

They were a small group of bandits, and they moved quickly, clearly practiced in their skill. Two of them took a great leap and landed perfectly on the step before the driver. There were shouts, and the horses were sent into a frenzy, the carriage careening wildly off to the ditch on the side of the road and crashing near where Y/N and Jyrre crouched watching, shocked and frozen.

When the carriage crashed, the rest of the bandits jumped to the door and wrenched it open, clearly intending to drag out the inhabitants. It was two people they yanked out, two men, and there were shouts and struggles and a great flailing of limbs, and it was when the princess saw a flash of white-blonde hair, achingly familiar, that she jolted into action without even pausing to think twice.

“Y/N!” rumbled Jyrre in great concern, but she was so focused that she did not even hear him.

With the second nature that followed years of physical regimen in the Arcadia, she sprinted forward and, in mid-jump, she reached behind her to slip an arrow from her sheath, landing gracefully on the dirt road and loading her weapon within seconds. There was a shout, but she also hardly heard it. The adrenaline had made her mind razor sharp and her blood hot in her veins. She took aim and released her arrow, and it whistled as it flew toward its target, landing with precision in the back of the neck of one of the bandits, piercing completely through and killing him instantly.

The bandit collapsed forward onto the prince, as they had been struggling in a fight. He pushed the man off immediately and caught sight of her standing there, and his gray eyes grew wide.

“My lady!” he exclaimed in a gasp, struggling to his feet, but the princess was already turning to fire another arrow at the bandit that was fighting the other man, the companion of the prince, a tall, dark-haired man also dressed in fine clothing.

But the two bandits that had attacked the driver had caught sight of her, and with growls of fury they began racing toward her; she heard the prince shout for her again, and saw him hold up his hands, a white light beginning to illuminate them. She did not have time to marvel at the fact that he was about to do magic. She half turned, hoping she could fire two arrows right after another quickly enough so that neither of them reached her, for in hand to hand combat she would surely lose–

But she didn’t need to fire an arrow at all, and Prince Draco did not need his magic.

From behind her came a great and terrible roar, a furious roar that would have scared even the bravest of soldiers. She knew what it was, of course, and so she was not frightened; the ground shook beneath her when Jyrre landed from his leap to the road, and he immediately curled one of his wings possessively around her, pushing her backward and helping nudge her up so that she could climb expertly up to his back and to safety.

But her escape to Jyrre’s back was entirely unnecessary. All of the remaining bandits took one look at the dragon and let out terrible screams, dropping their weapons and turning, intending to run away.

They did not get far. Jyrre’s stream of fire caught them on their way, and though their yells were terrible to hear and the fire igniting their bodies awful to behold, they did not burn for long, and soon all that remained of them were charred bones scattered upon the road.

The princess was shaking as she observed the aftermath of the small battle: the overturned wagon, the remains of the bandits, the driver dead in the ditch; and, of course, the two men that were now standing there, frozen as they gazed up at her and the dragon in both awe and wonder as well as a very understandable mild terror. “My lady,” breathed Prince Draco again, sounding very shaken. “You are...you’re a _rider_.” He looked positively thunderstruck. “Is that how you injured yourself when we last met?”

“Yes,” she said, sliding easily down from Jyrre’s back and stepping out in front of the dragon to demonstrate that no harm would come to them. “It was my first time flying that day, and I fell.”

“So _this_ is the mysterious woman that you met in the forest that you would not stop speaking about,” said the other man, and now that the fear in his eyes and on his face was fading, the princess could see that he looked rather delighted.

“I am pleased to know I made an impression,” said Princess Y/N, glancing at the prince, who had kicked the other man with a rather embarrassed sort of look. But he then turned his eyes upon her again, and the way he gazed at her was already setting all her nerves on fire.

The other man bowed low. “I am Theodore Nott,” he said pleasantly. “And I believe we owe both you and your dragon our lives, my lady.”

“He does not belong to me,” corrected Y/N. “He is his own creature, Lord Nott, and his name is Jyrre.”

“Oh, of course,” said Theodore smoothly, bowing again. “My apologies. And please do call me Theo. Lord Nott is my father, and I certainly do not want to be mistaken for him.”

“Please,” began Draco, tentatively stepping closer. “Come with us. We did not get far on this road, and the court is nearby. My father the king would be pleased to meet the woman that saved us, I am sure.”

“And Prince Draco wants an excuse to have you close, I think, though he is not being so bold or brave as to say so directly,” added Theo, chuckling.

“Contain that mouth of yours, Theo, or I’ll have your head,” drawled Prince Draco, but his voice was lilted and teasing as he glanced at his companion and it was clear that they were friends. His eyes were hopeful when they met Y/N’s again. “My lady? Will you come? And will you also honor me with your name?”

Y/N glanced at Jyrre uncertainly. She would not be able to bring him to court with her, and she was loathe to leave him, even if it was just for a brief time. She was also frightened to meet the royals of this kingdom, but this was a perfect opportunity to investigate further what she and Jyrre had initially set out to do when they had been watching the road. There was also, of course, the pull of the prince’s presence, and that was very powerful; more powerful than she wished it to be.

“You must go,” said Jyrre finally. “But you should not stay at court too long. It is too dangerous.”

“She is under my protection,” said Prince Draco very seriously, and he shot her a sidelong glance–just something in that brief look made the princess’ breath catch short in her chest again, and she gave him a shy smile. “No harm shall ever come to her when I am with her, Jyrre," he continued. "I promise.”

“I was not referring to the sort of danger that you are thinking of, young prince,” said Jyrre, and then he fixed him with a rather stern look, ruffling his large wings. “And Y/N has just helped save you both, if you recall,” he told him. “I do believe she can protect herself, as long as no one means any ill to come to her in your court. So be sure of that.”

“I will,” said Prince Draco solemnly, his eyes fixing again on the princess with a light in them. “Y/N,” he repeated in a murmur, tasting the name on his lips, and when he said it like that she wanted to melt against him again, to taste _his_ lips upon hers, but perhaps right this very moment was not the time.

“I’ll come back to you tonight,” said Y/N to the dragon, reaching out and touching his snout, stroking softly. “I won’t leave you alone long.”

“I am perfectly capable of being alone,” said Jyrre kindly. “But I would still like to see you tonight to ensure that you are safe.” He then turned to the men, and he rose up a little so that he towered more over the humans. “I warn you both,” he said, “While I can sense that you mean no harm to her and you do have my trust, if Y/N has not reported to me by nightfall as promised, I shall assume something has happened to her. And if that turns out to be true, I swear to you that I shall burn down your entire kingdom and everyone in it. Dragons do not take well to bad fates befalling their beloved riders.”

“We believe you,” said Theo, looking both incredibly dazed and disturbed.

_And so the dragon reluctantly let his princess be led away by the two strange men, settling in the forest to wait for her return, so that she may share with him the surprises she encountered at court._

_The prince held out his hand and the princess took it, heart fluttering. Something felt right again in his presence. Some piece of her, it seemed, something inside, had relaxed again after being tense._

_The prince, for his part, was rejoicing that he had found the mystery woman that had so intrigued him many weeks ago in the forest._ _And now here she was, more exciting and beautiful and enticing than ever: a master of a dragon, a master of a bow? Who was she, exactly? He intended to know. He intended to learn everything about her, every habit and quirk and idiosyncrasy. He intended to kiss her breathless again, regardless of her birth, as many times and as often as she would let him._

_He would not exactly intend to fall in love, and neither would she._

_But some things, as they say, are inevitable, and cannot be avoided._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: violence & fighting, some pretty gruesome death scenes, angst


	4. The Deceiver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it was that Prince Draco and Theo Nott took the young princess to court—not knowing, of course, that she is a princess at all.

_So it was that Prince Draco and Theo Nott took the young princess to court—not knowing, of course, that she is a princess at all—in order to present her to the king, so that she may be rewarded of her good deeds in saving the men from the bandits._

_The princess found herself wanting to protest as they drew ever nearer, for she was frightened to come before the eyes of the king, but she knew that the best way to learn more about the caster was to face the royal ruler, and hope that perhaps she could learn more about the queen while doing so._

_The prince apologetically slipped his hand from her grasp as they entered the court, knowing, she was sure, that publicly showing affection for who he believed to be a forest dweller would anger his subjects. But the two men still flanked her on either side as the grand doors opened to the majestic Throne room, though only Prince Draco entered with her. And even though she still hardly knew him she felt calmed by his presence as she was swept forward to meet the royal ruler…_

“My son,” exclaimed the man sitting in the throne at the end of the room. It was a crude thing, forged from pieces of sword, a clear homage to battle and war and bloodshed.

He was blonde, his hair thin and long, his features sharp and pointed like his son’s but his eyes crueler. He stood immediately upon seeing the pair enter, and his eyes flooded with confusion. “Why have you returned to us so early? You were sent to speak with the Bank on behalf of our Kingdom.”

“Our carriage was attacked,” explained Prince Draco. “Theo and I barely escaped with our lives. We would not have done had it not been for this woman stepping in to help." He gestured to Y/N, who curtsied.

“Your Majesty,” she said nervously.

The king’s gaze swept over her in a cold manner that she was quite certain that she did not like. “A woman,” he commented softly. “How is it that you possess the skills to save two men trained in combat? Are you a witch?”

“No, my King,” breathed Princess Y/N anxiously. “I have skill with a bow.”

“A bow?” The king’s voice got a little sharper. “What sort of woman uses a bow? Why do you dress like this, a mixture between a peasant and a savage? Are you a forest dweller?” When he was met with silence the king said, louder this time, “ _Speak_!”

“Father—” began Draco, his voice full of protest, but the king waved a hand at him for silence.

“Yes,” said the princess, thinking that it was close enough to the truth. Her hands were trembling.

The king wrinkled his nose and then shot his son a disdainful look. “Why would you bring such a creature to our court, Draco? What were you thinking?”

“ _Father_ ,” Draco started again, sounding very strained and incredibly displeased, giving Y/N a glance of wild apology, but the king spoke over him again, looking very thoughtful indeed.

“Well,” he said calmly, observing Y/N with those cold, gray eyes, “I suppose you have saved my son, and I’m sure Lord Nott will also be pleased. Surely I can show a little more warmth to our guest. Perhaps I could even reward her.” He gave her a small smile, though it did not reach his eyes. “Perhaps,” he said softly, still watching Y/N in a way that gave the princess no doubt that he despised everything about her, “She could be hired as a servant. A forest dweller should be very grateful to receive a position in our court.”

“That is very kind, my King,” Y/N rushed to say, “But—”

“You mistake this for a choice,” said the king sharply, cutting her off. “You will do as you are told, for you are a forest dweller, and you should be happy that I am not killing you on the spot.”

“You will not, Father,” said Draco very harshly. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

The King sank back into his throne with a sigh. “She shall be the servant to your betrothed, Draco,” he decided. “With Lady Daphne coming to the kingdom in preparation for the upcoming ball, it would be best if she were as comfortable as possible. Another lady in waiting to attend to her needs couldn’t possibly hurt. And until she arrives, she may find a place in the stables.”

Hearing that Prince Draco was betrothed to another was like a blow to the chest, but Princess Y/N struggled to keep her face neutral, even when she felt Draco’s eyes dart briefly to her.

It shouldn’t matter, anyway.

She had known there couldn’t be a future with him, hadn’t she?

Her most pressing problem now would be how to escape the court when she needed to, for she was aware that she could not stay away too long from her Arcadia. And if the king’s personality was any indication, he and the queen may indeed be the prime suspects for being the plotters or casters of the curse, though she would at least need proof that one of them had magic as Jyrre had suspected.

A few weeks at the court to find out more might be best, even if the circumstances surrounding the prince may be rather painful.

She curtsied low again, careful to keep her voice and face as impassive as possible. “I am very grateful indeed,” she said quietly. “And I would be most pleased to serve the Lady Daphne.”

“Very well. Draco, take her to the servant’s quarters so she can wash up and stop looking like utter filth.” The king again waved a dismissive hand. Stiffly, the princess turned to go, avoiding the eyes of the prince and feeling the overwhelming and irritating prickling beginnings of shame. _As if I should care what that horrible man thinks of me_ , she mused with a scowl.

The prince was quiet until they were out of the throne room, and it wasn’t until they were well away, down the corridor and turned into a new one, that he unexpectedly took her wrist and pulled her, though gently, into a small room, closing the wooden door behind him.

“My lady,” he began regretfully. “Y/N—”

“I would not have kissed you had I known you were betrothed,” she said, hearing how cold her voice sounded.

“I wasn’t then,” he said seriously. “It was always something my parents discussed, but it was made official only last week. I do not want it. I know Daphne well, have since we were children, but I don’t feel affection for her. Not that sort of affection, at least.” He stepped closer, and her breath caught. Part of her wanted to run and the other wanted to yank him closer.

Neither of these sides won.

She just stood still, struggling to maintain her composure, but she almost lost it all when he tentatively reached up to touch her face.

“You have captivated me,” he finally said quietly. “For weeks, I could not stop thinking of you. I went for many walks in the forest hoping to find you.”

She almost choked, but still remained calm and detached, stepping pointedly away. “You and I would be folly, my prince, even if you weren’t betrothed,” she replied firmly. “You heard Jyrre. There is danger for me, and I cannot stay at your court long.”

“What sort of danger?” he pressed anxiously. “Let me help. I can help. I have magic, Y/N.”

“Magic cannot solve everything, I’m afraid,” she said regretfully. “For it is magic that is the danger.”

He frowned, brow furrowing. “What are you speaking of? Where do you go that is safe? Why must you disappear? How did you come to be a dragon rider?”

“So many questions,” she said, and her temper suddenly flared. “You ask all these of me and want something even greater still! Would you rather I stay here then? Unsafe and waiting on the needs of your future wife, resigned to wanting you in secret?” she asked fiercely, knocking his hand away.

But her angry outburst only made him blink, and then slowly begin to smile. “So you want me as well,” he replied quietly, looking very triumphant indeed. His voice had become low and silky and she could feel every heartbeat in her stomach and how her cheeks grew hot when he stepped closer.

Again, he rose his hand to her face, a small smile quirking his lips as he saw her expression. “Do I make you nervous, my lady?” he murmured teasingly, moving his thumb across her cheek.

“Stop,” she commanded, squeezing her eyes shut and swallowing hard.

“If you say no just once more I promise I shall leave you be,” he said, moving his thumb across her face again, and she opened her eyes to stare up at him. He was burning her with his gaze. “But if you now say nothing, you will find out just how determinedly I can pursue something when I want it.” He leaned closer; so close now that his nose was touching hers. And he waited.

_Say it_ , she thought desperately. _Say no now, call him off, save yourself the heartache and despair—_

But her brain was stuttering. “I—” she began, and her lip trembled.

His eyes moved down to her mouth and flicked back up to hers. “Last chance,” he whispered. “Say no, my beauty, or I will kiss you again, and when I do you will forget all your reservations.”

Her breath caught again, and she was flooded with desire. She was done for, and she knew it.

There was a long silence, and she pointedly didn’t break it.

Smiling, he bowed his head to hers.

_And so the prince and the secret princess shared their second kiss of many, relinquishing to their passionate affections, however unwise it may have been due to precarious circumstances._

_But it was only the beginning of everything that would come to pass for their story, for there were still many obstacles and trials on the road ahead of them both._

_Surprises; heartache and death and betrayal; love and joy and victory._

* * *

_Time passed in the kingdom of Wiltshire._

_The secret princess indeed found herself working in the stables as she anticipated the long-awaited arrival of Prince Draco’s betrothed: one Lady Daphne Greengrass. But the princess didn’t mind the stables, for being outside was natural to her, and the fellow servants were kind to her._

_And, of course, the secret princess also had her secret affections—completely forbidden, for she knew, as did he, that no one could ever know about her relationship with Prince Draco._

_And so she and the prince found stolen time, darting through the castle corridors to find places to steal kisses until lips bruised and cheeks were flushed and hair was mussed, and she let him run his hands over her cheekbones and through her hair and whisper to her how special she is. She let him do so, despite fearing no good would come of any of it, because sometimes infatuation makes people do things they know may be irrational, and because Prince Draco’s eyes and smile were very easy to get lost in._

_How long could this last?_

_It was not wise to stay in the kingdom much longer, though it had been too difficult to find any clues about the king and queen due to her busy servant duties; nor did she have a plan of what to do if it turned out her suspicions about them were indeed correct._

_What would she do if it turned out that one of Draco’s parents was the caster of the curse, the killer of her father, the destroyer of her life?_

_The princess became more weary with every passing day, for while she did hard work during the day in the stables, in the dead of night she also snuck away to visit her dragon in the nearby forest. Sometimes Draco and Theo came too. Other times just Draco accompanied her._

_Many times, however, she went to Jyrre alone. And it was one such night when her precious dragon companion gave her another warning…_

“Y/N,” rumbled Jyrre, as he always did when he saw her approaching. “You look exhausted. Please do not visit me every single night. Catch up on your sleep, my dear.”

“I miss you too much, Jyrre,” she replied, and she did.

So much so, sometimes, that it felt her chest would explode with the pain of it. She was discovering that once a dragon and a rider were bonded, it was difficult for them to be separated for long.

“Let us leave,” he suggested, wrapping her lovingly in his wing. “Come back to your Arcadia, where you will be safe from the curse. The attempts to find the caster have been fruitless.”

“Because I have been stuck at work in the stables!” protested the princess. “But the Lady Daphne arrives tomorrow, and I will be attending to her in the castle. I will have much more opportunity now to meet the queen and find out more, Jyrre. I need to stay, at least some time longer.”

The dragon was silent for a long time, and when the princess peeked up at him she saw that his orange eyes were staring down at her very somberly. “You and I both know that is not the only reason, my princess,” said Jyrre rather ruefully. “Do not attempt to hide that you are in love with the prince, especially not from me. I feel it when he is here with you, and I know your heart.”

“I truly wish I was not,” she mumbled, but even as she said it, she remembered fondly on earlier that day, when Draco had come up behind her and surprised her by sweeping her behind a tapestry and kissing her until she was breathless.

“Have you spoken with him about your future together? Your relationship?” asked Jyrre knowingly.

“No,” admitted the princess.

Most of her time with her secret lover consisted of exactly what had transpired earlier that day.

There was talking, of course, and more than pure physical affection, but speaking of a future they both knew they didn’t have was something they had carefully avoided.

“And you want to stay in the kingdom, not only putting yourself in danger, but submitting yourself to the pain of watching him be with another woman? A woman that you are meant to serve?” he pressed, his voice rumbling deeper, and the princess realized that her dragon was agitated.

“Why do you not like him, Jyrre?” she burst out, and then a truly horrible thought occurred to her. “Have you sensed something? Perhaps he is toying with my affections?”

Again, her dragon was silent for a long time, and when he spoke it was slower, more deliberate, and very, very careful. “I do not dislike him,” he replied gently. “I have felt that his feelings for you are true.” He fell into silence again, but it felt very uneasy to Y/N.

“Then what is it?” she urged. “Speak with me, Jyrre. We do not keep secrets from each other.”

“No,” he agreed. “We do not.” He let out a deep sort of sigh; smoke furled out of the dragon’s nostrils. “I must warn you, princess, that there is something…not right about Wiltshire.”

Y/N’s heartbeat sped up to a painful velocity, a curious dread filling her. “What do you mean?”

“I do not quite know,” said Jyrre gravely. “But it is something in the people’s heads. And it is especially poignant in the prince’s. There is something…wrong. It makes me uneasy.”

“But you said his feelings for me are true,” she whispered, feeling sick as tears filled her eyes.

“They are,” agreed Jyrre. “And furthermore, I know he wishes you no harm. I see no sign that he would ever betray you, princess. If I had, I would have killed him already. But still, something in their heads…in _his_ head…it tingles. It is magic, but it is not like the magic that he has in the rest of his body. It feels different. I do not understand it. But as I said, I see no good coming of it.”

“I know he is good,” said the princess determinedly.

“Yes,” agreed Jyrre. “I think so too. Regardless, princess, you should heed this warning of mine, among the others I have already mentioned.”

There was another long silence as the princess mulled over everything. “Two more weeks,” she decided. “Give me two more weeks where I am to be working inside the castle, so that perhaps I may at least find out more information. Then maybe all of this has not been for naught.”

“Very well,” said Jyrre, though he still sounded a little distressed.

_And_ so _it was that the princess decided to stay in the kingdom of Wiltshire, for just a little while longer; though there was now even more of a sense of urgency to leave the court, as well as an expiration date to her time there and with the prince._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shameless little GOT references, super fluffy Prince!Draco that could give Fabrication!Draco a run for his money, language I think? also references to violence/killing


	5. The Betrothed

_There was an excited, breathless sort of air about the kingdom the day that Lady Daphne Greengrass was to arrive with her family, for the union between her and Prince Draco was supposed to bring in a new era of power for the kingdom; what was more, the princess heard many of the common folk speaking about her beauty, and her deep connection to the prince since childhood. They would be pleased to have her as queen, they all said._

_As Y/N was ushered to a different servant’s quarters—her new residence while her job was to wait on the Lady Daphne—and as she was made presentable in honor of the arrival of her lady, the princess tried desperately to smother the horrid lump growing in her throat as she pondered being in the service of a woman that would be on the arm of Prince Draco. The princess knew that there were many other, more important things that should be of concern to her, and that worrying about such things as the beauty of another woman and her attachment to the prince was terribly petty._

_But as she joined the other ladies in waiting that were to attend to the new guests and moved out to the courtyard to wait the arrival of the Greengrass carriage, she still couldn't stop the lump from rising again until she could barely swallow, and felt a sudden wave of bitterness for her lot in life…_

Grey eyes followed her as she moved with the other servant women and stood in the sunny courtyard, the light wind of the day gently rustling their skirts. When she glanced over and caught his eye, he gave her a small, reassuring smile; she forced one in return, but she didn’t think she was very convincing, for she could see how his eyes flickered a little.

Her eyes moved to the king, and, for the first time, the queen.

The queen had come out to greet the Greengrass family. She was standing hand in hand with King Lucius, and she was very beautiful.

Her lips were bright red, contrasted sharply against her pale skin and a small little smile upon them; her hair was dark, and her eyes were sharp.

Y/N found herself observing the queen with great interest; as if she would see the answer about her being the caster simply by staring at her.

When the carriage pulled up and the Greengrass family stepped out, Y/N knew instantly exactly which one was the Lady Daphne.

Her parents exited the carriage first, their gray hair beginning to fleck their usual colors and reflecting their age to be much higher than that of Draco’s parents; and then out came someone that was too young to be Daphne, a dark-haired teenage beauty that Y/N could only assume was her younger sister. And then finally out came Lady Daphne herself, flanked by two of her own ladies in waiting, and she was as lovely as the commoners had described, smiling and waving at the citizens of Wiltshire as they cheered for her.

Y/N felt another pang, and quickly tried to quell it.

_I’m leaving in two weeks_ , she told herself fiercely, but she still had to avert her eyes when Prince Draco swept forward, bowing his head and kissing her hand. There was clear affection for each other in their eyes, and the commoners were exclaiming happily and sighing and whispering.

As she had been instructed, Y/N remained clustered with the ladies in waiting, forced to watch as Draco gallantly hooked an arm with the Lady Daphne, both of them smiling brilliantly for the crowd as King Lucius announced that in three nights there would be a ball to celebrate the betrothal of their son to Lady Greengrass. And then the crowd was cheering and clapping even more enthusiastically, and Lady Daphne was being led away by one of the head servants of Wiltshire so that she could be shown to her new quarters.

Her ladies in waiting _—_ Y/N now included _—_ dutifully followed so that they could attend to her.

Once inside and alone in the room with her servants, Lady Daphne Greengrass collapsed rather ungracefully into the nearest armchair.

“The journey was absolute murder,” she said with a sigh, pulling off her heels immediately. “My mother simply would not stop droning on and on about wedding colors.” Her eyes flicked over the three women standing in front of her, their hands clasped and waiting for instructions.

Y/N was desperately trying to remember the days when she had been waited on as a princess, with her own ladies in waiting.

What, exactly, had been all of their duties? They had been good women, all older, and wonderful at their work.

But it felt like so long ago; a very distant memory. Almost like another life.

“I am pleased to meet you,” said Daphne finally to Y/N, very gently. “I am sure we will get along very well while I am here. My current ladies in waiting _—_ ” She gestured briefly to the other two girls, who smiled fondly at her. “ _—_ have been with me since we were all young girls, and they are very dear to me. Please do not feel you have to address me with high deference. You may simply call me Daphne.” She tilted her head. “What is your name?”

“Y/N,” said the secret princess, wishing Lady Daphne would be easier to hate.

“A lovely name,” murmured Lady Daphne with a kind smile. “Tell me, how is it that you came to be in the service of the kingdom of Wiltshire? I do not remember you from my last visit.”

“I _—_ ” Y/N hesitated. “I was a…forest dweller, my lady. But one day I helped to save the prince and his companion, Lord Theodore Nott. They were attacked by bandits while traveling on the road. The king, in his kindness, gave me a position and an opportunity for a better life in the kingdom.”

All three of the other women blinked in surprise.

“Well then," said Lady Daphne finally, very softly. “It seems I, too, owe you a large debt. After all, you saved the love of my life.” Her ladies in waiting exchanged glances, but they looked worried rather than pleased, and Lady Daphne abruptly turned away and swept to the window, but not before Y/N saw the curious bitterness that had swept over her face.

The princess recognized it because it felt so like her own.

“You speak very well for a forest dweller,” said Lady Daphne suddenly, turning to face Y/N again. Y/N felt a sense of panic, but to her relief, Lady Daphne was smiling. “You must be very clever.

“You humble me, my lady,” mumbled Y/N, curtsying.

“No need to curtsy,” said Lady Daphne. “As I said, I am just Daphne.” She turned to glance at the other ladies in waiting. “Parvati, Lavender, would you go make yourself comfortable in the servant’s headquarters? I will only need the services of one of you for now, and I would like to get to know Y/N better, as we will be spending so much time together while I am here.”

The other two women nodded and, smiling, they hurried out of the room.

“I hope this is all right,” said Lady Daphne.

“Of course,” said Y/N graciously, almost curtsying again before catching herself. “I am here to serve you, my lady.”

“Daphne,” the other woman corrected her. “Would you be so kind as to draw me a bath? If there are rose petals, that would be most welcome.”

“Naturally,” answered Y/N quietly, going over to the tub and beginning to busy herself with preparing hot water and searching the room to see if there were indeed rose petals meant for bathing. Fortunately there were, and when she glanced up again the Lady Daphne had undone her hair from the knot on her head with some difficulty and was yanking a brush through her locks.

“I can do that, my lady!” said Y/N quickly, standing in horror.

“Nonsense,” chastised Daphne. “I can do things for myself, darling, though it is appreciated that you are thinking of me.” She then rubbed furiously at her forehead. “I have a terrible headache,” she complained. “It came on so quickly as I arrived. It’s strange. It…tingles.”

Y/N felt her blood run cold; heard Jyrre’s voice in her head.

_It tingles…_

She tried not to let her sudden horror _—_ though she was uncertain why she was feeling horrified, she only knew that she was _—_ show on her face.

Luckily, a light knock sounded on the door then, distracting her from her fear, and Y/N glanced at Lady Daphne questioningly, who just nodded with a little sigh. Sweeping over, she opened the door and was greeted by the sight of none other than Prince Draco, which sent her senses reeling and twisted her stomach into knots. She stared up at him for a long moment, gazing helplessly at his face and itching to touch him; and then she remembered herself, hurriedly curtsying low and stepping back so that he could enter the room.

“Ah,” said Daphne, making no move to stand. She let out another sigh and held out her brush, which Y/N took to mean she should come over and continue brushing Daphne’s hair. She complied immediately, desperately avoiding Draco’s eyes even though she felt his gaze on her as she walked across the room. “Come to speak with your future wife, Draco, my love?”

The bitterness in her tone was back. Y/N could hear it plain as day even though she couldn’t see Daphne’s face. To Y/N’s surprise, Draco just rolled his eyes.

“Sarcasm doesn’t look good on you,” he drawled, equally sardonic.

“But it looks good on _you_?” Daphne shot back, and then she sighed. Then, very quietly, with a glance at Y/N: “How freely can we speak, Draco? Shall I dismiss her?”

Y/N found herself bristling. As kind as Daphne seemed to be to her servants, it was still abundantly clear what her station and class was, and that as soon as someone else was in the room she was not meant to exist. She did not appreciate being spoken about as if she wasn’t there at all, much less in a situation such as this. She shot a furious glare at Draco as she moved the brush through Daphne’s hair, waiting for his reply.

“Speak freely,” said Draco calmly. “She will keep our secrets. Won’t you?” He was looking at Y/N now, half pleading, half apologetic.

“Of course,” said Y/N lightly, averting her eyes to the top of Daphne’s head.

“If you insist,” said Daphne. “Have you thought of a way out of this, then?”

“No,” said Draco carefully.

“Have you been trying to think of a plan, at least?” pressed Daphne anxiously. “I fear that you are not as inclined to try and end this arrangement as much as I am, Draco. You do not love me as a wife, but you also do not love someone else as desperately as I do. This arrangement could still be comfortable for you. Have you had a change of heart? You want to go through with it?”

Y/N kept her eyes down and her face carefully neutral.

“Wrong,” said Prince Draco after a long moment of silence, very softly. “There is someone else.”

Y/N’s eyes shot up, but Draco’s gaze was fixed firmly on Daphne, his mouth pressed in a thin line.

Lady Daphne sat up a little straighter, sounding both shocked and intrigued. “ _What_? Since when? Are you going to tell me who it is?”

Draco’s mouth turned up at the corners a little. “Are you going to tell me who _yours_ is?”

“Best if I don’t, I think,” said Daphne very decisively.

“Fine,” said Draco. “Mine also must remain a secret for now.” Briefly, so briefly that she almost missed it, Y/N saw Draco’s eyes flick to her and then back to Lady Daphne. “But don’t suggest I want to follow through with this, Daphne. I never did, and now I want it less than ever.”

“Is she highborn? Is she from Wiltshire?” demanded Daphne.

“Did you not hear what I said about it staying a secret?” asked Draco, smiling.

Daphne grumbled a little. “Fine,” she also said. “Dismissed.”

“Being dismissed in my own castle, I see,” said Draco dryly, rolling his eyes again and turning on his heel. But he paused at the door and gave Daphne a small smile. “It’s good to see you again, Daph. Even considering the less than ideal circumstances.”

Y/N felt Daphne’s shoulders relax. “Same for me, Draco,” she said softly, and Draco nodded, turning away, careful not to spare Y/N a glance.

Y/N's heart was racing as the door closed, and Daphne spoke again almost immediately. “I trust that Prince Draco was indeed correct that you will actually keep the secrets you just heard,” Daphne warned, turning to appraise her with her eyes narrowed.

“Of course, my lady Daphne,” she murmured, trying hard not to look suspicious in any way. “Your bath is prepared. The water was scalding when I poured it before, but with the passing time it should be the right temperature now. Shall I help you with _—_ ”

“No.” Lady Daphne cut her off quickly, but not unkindly. She was gazing toward the window with a little frown. “You are dismissed. It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

“For me as well,” Y/N said politely, and then she was heading toward the door and trying not appear as though she were trying to get out of the room as quickly as she possibly could.

She was heading for the servant’s quarters, wringing her hands, when she caught the masculine scent of something _—_ _someone—_ very familiar, just before his hand took her shoulder from behind and guided her gently to the nearest empty room.

His mouth was on hers, warm and desperate, before she could even really register the room she was in. He had spun her around and was kissing her so hard that she almost didn’t notice when she bumped into the stone wall behind her. She was much too enchanted by his hands, which were currently pinned to her hips. “Draco,” she breathed out. “What _—_ ”

“Y/N,” he murmured against her mouth. “My mysterious dragon rider. You clever, beautiful woman.” He kissed her again, and the tip of his tongue against hers melted her. “But not quite clever enough not to be a little jealous earlier, hmm?” He was clearly enjoying his teasing; she felt him smiling against her mouth and wanted to smack him.

“What did I tell you?” he whispered, pulling away suddenly to bury his face in her neck and peppering little kisses across it as he did so. “About Daphne?”

“You _—_ you told me _—_ ” She could hardly speak.

“Well?” He sounded amused again.

“You don’t have feelings for her,” she breathed finally, shivering at his tongue lightly grazing on her neck after his lips.

“Correct,” he murmured, pulling back and kissing her again. “I distinctly remember telling you that I had them for _you_. Do you remember?”

“Yes,” she gasped out, as his hands ran up her sides and settled on her rib cage.

“Now you see I was being truthful,” he told her softly. “Don’t you? Do you see it now, Y/N?”

“Draco–”

“Y/N,” he said, suddenly taking her face in his and looking at her seriously. “I want us to be together someday. Do you think that is possible?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, gazing up at him rather fearfully. “It would also very unwise. I was a forest dweller _—_ ” She had to bite her tongue for a moment on that particular lie. It felt very wrong, lying to Prince Draco. Much more wrong than it had before. “ _—_ and your subjects love Daphne.”

“Perhaps,” he said, smiling. “But there’s nothing to be done about it now. I, at least, am in far too deep for you.” Very regretfully, he stepped back. “I must go now, unfortunately. I only slipped away briefly from my mother and father. I will be kept very busy over the next few days before the ball.”

“I know,” she breathed, smoothing her dress a little and trying to ignore the desperation that she felt, how she wanted to spend every moment with him. “I understand.”

“I know you do,” he murmured. “I wish you didn’t have to.”

“Me too,” she answered gently, smiling up at him. As she gazed into his eyes, however, she heard Jyrre’s voice flash through in her head without warning. A whisper, cautioning her:

_There’s something not right about Wiltshire._

_It’s their heads._

_It’s especially poignant with him._

_It tingles…_

“Don’t be sad,” said Draco, misinterpreting the look on Y/N’s face and touching her cheek. “Perhaps you can find a way to attend the ball?”

She forced a smile. “I’m not sad,” she insisted, leaning forward and kissing his cheek. “And I’ll try. I promise.”

Draco held out a hand, one palm up. It suddenly sparked with a dancing white light, and she just stared, surprised and in awe, as Y/N had never seen him perform magic before.

He was smiling rather smugly at the look on her face, and then the light died, and in his hand was a yellow flower.

Very gently, he reached forward and tucked it behind her ear. “Please do. And if you come,” he told her, “Will you wear this? Just like this?”

“Afraid you won’t recognize me with a mask?” she teased, and he took her chin and kissed her.

“Oh no,” he said, tracing his fingers on her face. “I’m quite certain I’ll recognize you no matter what you’re wearing or not wearing, Y/N.” She suddenly felt a shiver up her spine at the look on his face _—_ a good shiver. “A rather possessive part of me simply wants you to wear it just so that you have something of mine on you,” he admitted, kissing her one last time.

And then he was backing away to the door, the smile on his face breathtaking and also still rather regretful.

And then he was gone.

_Fate was beginning to play its role; the secret princess and the prince were becoming far too intertwined in their affections to go back now. The heart wants what it wants, and the secret princess wanted the prince, though she knew, still, that it would bring pain and suffering to them both if their secret were to be discovered; or when they inevitably must be separated._

_Things were becoming complex for the young lovers indeed._

_But they would become more complex yet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: language, sexual themes


	6. The Lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Warnings: me having terrible knowledge of medieval clothing (i researched but i still suck ok sorry). but most importantly: (!!)sex. it is a whimsical fairy tale so its more flowery, sappy sort of sex language rather than graphic and dirty lmao, but it still definitely falls into a descriptive sex scene category. ayyy

_As Prince Draco had predicted, Princess Y/N saw very little of him over the next few days._

_The castle was a flurry of activity, with preparations for the ball underway. Lords and ladies and common folk alike had an eager, delighted air about them, ready to have a merry evening with feasting and drinking and dancing and, of course, honoring the prince and his betrothed._

_The princess spent most of her time in the presence of Lady Daphne, attending to her needs and finding that she was liking the woman more and more with each passing hour._

_The only times that the princess got to see the prince in these days were when he stopped by to see Daphne, usually accompanied by either his father or his mother, and sometimes his eyes would flick to Y/N and dart back, as if unable to help himself. This was enough to make the princess feel warm, despite the coldness that the king and queen sometimes brought with them on these visits._

_When she had spare moments during the day Y/N wandered the corridors, trying to find out where the king and queen may have their chambers, but never daring to ask anyone. The princess continued investigating but always found nothing, and each time she visited Jyrre, the dragon was becoming more and more antsy for her to leave, for her to return to the Arcadia and to safety._

_On the day of the ball, she was to report to Daphne’s room as early as noon to help Parvati and Lavender prepare their lady for the event, and Daphne presented her with an act of kindness that Y/N knew she would not forget; but to the surprise of the princess, it was only the first kindness that Daphne would give her, for there was a second one later in the evening as well…_

“Thank you,” said Daphne, when her ladies had put the finishing touches on her hair.

She was truly breathtaking in a dress of aquamarine, and the final thing to do was for her to put on her mask. When she did, all one could see of Lady Daphne was her eyes, her brilliant, sparkling eyes, but her identity was still quite clear for anyone looking closely enough.

“You look _stunning_ , Daphne,” breathed Parvati, putting a hand over her heart in awe.

“Thank you, my dear,” said Daphne. “Now you go and prepare yourselves. I’ll meet you there.” Parvati and Lavender hugged you—you had grown rather fond of them as well over such a short period of time—and you watched with some envy as they left the room. Though they were ladies in waiting their stations were still higher, and they were officially allowed to attend the ball.

Daphne swept over to the wardrobe. “Y/N,” she said. “Come here.”

Tentatively, Y/N made her way across the room to Daphne, who opened the door to the wardrobe. “These are all well suited to a ballroom,” said Daphne. “And as you have not had much opportunity to earn wages, I suspect you do not have a dress for such an event as tonight.”

Y/N blinked as she realized what Daphne was implying, and then she quickly began to shake her head in protest even as her eyes lingered longingly on the gowns “Oh, my lady—”

“Daphne,” the other woman corrected as always, smiling. “And don’t argue, darling. Take one of my dresses. Whichever you prefer. Wear it tonight and then keep it. It is yours.”

Y/N bowed her head a little. “I do not know how to respond to such kindness except to say thank you, though that hardly feels like enough,” she said quietly.

Daphne just smiled and pointed at a shelf at the top of the wardrobe. “There are masks to choose from there as well. Take any that you like.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said again. The thought of being able to go to the ball and spend even just a little time with Draco, even if their identities had to be hidden, was electrifying. Dancing with him meant she could be close to him again, and she was missing him.

A terrible sadness suddenly came over her as she remembered just how fleeting all of this was.

Daphne stepped forward and kissed her cheek. “When you come down,” she instructed, “Find me first. Will you promise me that?”

“Of course,” replied Y/N.

“Very good,” said Daphne, smiling. “Now I must go. If you need help getting ready, I know that Parvati and Lavender would be pleased to assist you.”

Daphne was quickly hurrying away when Y/N realized something. “Daphne! The ball doesn’t start for a bit of time, where are you—” But the other woman had already closed the door with a click behind her, clearly in something of a rush. Bewildered, Y/N stared for a moment at the closed door, wondering what Lady Daphne was getting up to on her own.

It took her some time to pick a dress, her heart thrilling in her chest. Eventually she settled on a truly exquisite gown of deep purple and a mostly simple black mask, though the simplicity was mitigated somewhat by the diamonds glittering on it. Knowing she would need help getting into her dress and preparing her hair and face, she slipped out of the room to find Lavender and Parvati.

“Ready?” they asked Y/N much later, as the secret princess slipped on the final touch: her mask.

“Yes,” she said, smiling, and together, the three women made their way to the grand ballroom.

Lavender and Parvati went off to get drinks—Daphne had instructed them not to wait on her at all and to enjoy their time at the party—and Y/N went to Daphne first as promised. She was easy to recognize; Y/N had spent hours helping her get ready, after all, and her dress was easy to spot. Daphne was standing near the far wall, gazing out into the direction of the dance floor.

“Hello, Daphne,” Y/N murmured when she reached her.

Daphne turned slightly, her eyes behind the mask lighting up, and she embraced Y/N tightly. “Oh, my dear, you look so wonderful! You have excellent taste. And I love the flower in your hair.”

Y/N smiled, her mind flitting again to her promise to Draco to wear it. “Thank you. So what do you think? Is my identity hidden well enough?”

“Yes, I think so,” said Daphne, smiling. Her head turned back to the dance floor again, watching something, and Y/N heard a little wistful sigh escape her, and the eyes behind the mask were suddenly sad.

“Can I help you with something, my lady?” asked Y/N politely.

“Daphne,” corrected Daphne, shaking her head and smiling, though she kept her eyes trained out in the distance. Y/N followed her gaze and saw a tall figure with platinum blonde hair in a mask dutifully going through the steps of a dance; she smiled to herself a little, thinking that a masquerade ball was truly pointless with Draco’s very recognizable hair. She watched him spin around a bit, the dresses swaying around the dance floor.

He was a truly perfect dancer.

Another pang of sadness hit her, but she was distracted by Daphne speaking again.

“I don’t want to be queen, you know,” said Daphne suddenly, frowning. Her eyes were still trained on Draco on the dance floor. “I never did.”

Y/N glanced at her. “What is it that you want, Lady Daphne?”

Daphne sighed again, looking incredibly melancholy. “Just one thing.” She threw Y/N a pointed glance before turning again to stare at Draco.

Y/N felt something in her chest collapse.

She had thought Daphne wasn’t interested in Draco. Daphne and Draco’s conversation on the first day of her arrival had also seemed to confirm this, but perhaps Daphne had only been masking her feelings because she sensed Draco did not have feelings for _her_.

He would develop them if they married, Y/N thought sadly. Daphne was too wonderful, and if she loved him properly, then perhaps it was better this way…

That still didn’t stop her breathing from shortening, and she had to steady herself for a long moment before she could answer, in a voice that she was forcing to be casually light. “I am sure that he will come to love you in return when you marry,” said Y/N very kindly. “I am starting to believe it is rather impossible not to love a woman like you, Daphne.”

Daphne turned to look at her, blinking rapidly, and Y/N could see tears sparkling in her eyes. “Oh, my dear,” said Daphne kindly, “You truly are a good person, aren’t you? Would you really put my happiness before your own? A woman you hardly know?”

Y/N’s heart tightened. “My—my own?” she stuttered.

Daphne was smiling gently. “Oh yes,” she said. “I’m not blind. I know Draco very well, you see, and though I’ve never seen him in love before I was clever enough to detect who it was.”

Y/N struggled to compose a sentence, unsure of what to say but knowing she had to try and smooth this over somehow, even if Daphne didn’t seem angry. “Daphne, I—”

“That’s not Draco over there, Y/N,” Daphne said, placing a delicate hand on Y/N’s shoulder and jutting her chin out toward the dance floor. “Look closer.”

Brow furrowed, Y/N blinked, letting her eyes sweep over the blonde man dancing there.

And then she finally saw it. She saw that his limbs were thinner, and that the way he carried himself was slightly different. This man was passing _very_ well as Draco, but he was most certainly _not_ the prince, and Y/N’s eyes widened before she looked to Daphne.

“Is it—”

“Theo,” confirmed Daphne, nodding. “Theo and I have been in love for ages.”

“And Draco doesn’t know?” whispered Y/N. “And how…?” She glanced again at who she now knew was Theo. She knew it was true, but she did not understand how or why he looked that way.

“It would only make Draco feel worse. No need for all three of us to be miserable about the fact that our marriages are arranged to precisely the wrong people. Theo is not highborn enough for my family to consider; not when there is a prince available, anyway.” Daphne sighed, but then she grinned rather mischievously at Y/N. “As for your other question…” She peeked around, making sure no one was paying them any attention, before she made a slight waving motion with one of her hands. Y/N saw the dimmest of lights radiating from it before it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Prince Draco isn’t the only one with magic in his veins, Y/N.”

“Daphne—” Y/N choked, still uncertain what to say and hating it.

“Draco is in his chambers,” continued Daphne, her smile widening. “I told him that Theo would be posing as him tonight at the ball. He didn’t want to listen to me and was very stubborn about it, but I eventually convinced him to stay there. I told him to trust me, to stay up there at least an hour to allow me to send him a surprise.” She leaned forward and kissed Y/N’s cheek again. “Now go on. What are you waiting for, my dear? It’s high time that you were able to spend some uninterrupted time with your prince, don’t you agree?”

“When will I be able to stop thanking you?” said Y/N, feeling affection surge in her heart.

“No need,” said Daphne. “In kingdoms run by men, us women must band together, wouldn’t you say? Now—if you’ll excuse me, I would like to go share some dancing with the love of my life.” She let out a light, tinkling laugh, squeezed Y/N’s hand one more time, and then she was sweeping away toward Theo on the dance floor, leaving Y/N to stand there gaping after her for a long moment before she was able to pull herself together and head away from the ballroom.

She could hear her heartbeat and every one of her shortened breaths pounding in her ears on the way to the prince’s chambers.

The prospect of at least some hours alone with the prince was thrilling and nerve-wracking. So much of their time had to be spent sneaking around, quick stolen moments in between the rest of their lives. Daphne’s gift to them both—to them _all_ , for now Daphne and Theo also got to spend some time together and show affection, even if they were disguised—was truly extraordinary.

When she knocked on Prince Draco’s door, it was soft and tentative.

“Yes? Come in.”

His voice sounded both desperately curious and a tiny bit wary, clearly unsure what sort of surprise he should be expecting from Daphne.

When she pushed the door open and stood there in the doorway, partially illuminated by the moonlight falling through the gigantic, beautiful window panes of his quarters, he immediately leaped up from the armchair in the far corner of the room.

Shock was on his face at first. And then she watched as it morphed into understanding, and slowly, a wide smile began to light up his face.

“Daphne is a very clever woman, isn’t she?” Y/N commented lightly, smiling at him.

“I was just thinking the same,” he said, and he sounded rather hoarse. His eyes swept over the dress she had on. “Close the door, my beauty, and come closer to me.”

“Gladly,” she replied, closing it with a snap and hurrying quickly over to his outstretched hand, her palm out to reach his. As soon as their hands met, he curled his fingers around and yanked her closer to him, quicker, as if unable to stand the distance another second, and then he kissed her.

It was, perhaps, the most desperate kiss of them all. And that was saying something, because most of the time with Draco had been rushed, hurried, using the few minutes that they usually had together, and that often meant that kissing him had been desperate.

Perhaps he seemed to realize this, too, for after a few minutes of this, of tracing her lip with his tongue and his hands moving along her sides and her spine and finally into her hair, and after her entire body had already been set ablaze, he deliberately slowed down the pace of his mouth on hers.

He then kissed the corners of her mouth; and then her cheekbones.

“Draco,” she sighed, quite certain she wasn’t able to say anything else.

“I never thought,” he murmured, pressing his lips into her neck now, “That I would fall in love with a forest dweller.” He kissed up her neck, closer to her ear, and her skin tingled. “But I did, Y/N. My love. My clever, brave, beautiful dragon rider.”

To reply by saying that she had never thought she would love a prince would be untrue, and she already felt wretched about the lie that she was continuing to let him believe. Because she knew, and he did not, that it was not a forest dweller that he had fallen in love with after all.

“Are you always able to charm with such sweet words, Draco?” she asked to avoid giving a direct answer, and also breathless because his hands had gone to the ties on the front of her dress, his fingers lingering on them suggestively but doing nothing else.

“I’m sure I could have,” he said into her neck, before pressing his lips into the skin there and making her shiver. “But I have really only tried it with you.” He kissed her again, and his voice became almost like a low purr. “Why? Is it working?”

“You know it is, you horrible, arrogant prince,” she replied, and he laughed, but the mood abruptly changed when he kissed her again, more fiercely this time.

“May I?” he murmured, fingers tracing the strings, awaiting permission.

“Yes,” she breathed back, the tingling sensation from his lips previously on her neck now spreading all the way through the tips of her fingers and toes. He began pulling to unlace the strings without hesitation, his eyes growing dark, and then his lips found hers while his fingers continued to fumble with them. It took a while for him to unlace them, so long that he finally let out a growl of impatience against her mouth, leaned back, and snapped his fingers instead. They magically flew open so he could push the first layer of the gown off her shoulders.

“You’re using magic to undress me?” she panted, as he stooped to move kisses across her bare shoulders “You’re showing off, my prince.”

“There are far too many layers in this bloody thing,” he said, eyes ranging over the second layer. They were even darker than before. Dark as coal. When they flicked up to look at her face, she shivered again. “And besides,” he said, voice husky, “I’m very impatient.”

The world faded away when he kissed her again. The only things that mattered were his lips like silk on hers, or his fingers ghosting along her neck, down the sides of her body, to her hips.

The second layer of the gown was sleeveless, low cut, and he took advantage of this, pressing his lips along her jaw, down her neck, across her shoulder, and to her collarbone, where he gave a light suck. She was letting out breathy little sounds of delight and marveling at the fire coursing in her veins and thinking—how unfair, how criminally _unfair_ , that he could make her feel like this with what seemed like no effort at all, and how very cruel that it wouldn’t be able to last forever.

Her mind went blank again when his mouth came back up to meet hers for a while, tongue slipping against hers, before he dipped again to her neck and slid the tip of his tongue lightly along her throat.

She gave a ragged gasp, clutching him closer, and his hands came to the top of her gown and pulled it down, leaving her in knickers and a corset.

He stared openly for a moment before leaning forward and nuzzling into her neck. “You’re somehow better than I ever imagined,” he whispered into her ear, sounding very hoarse. And then he abruptly got to his knees used his teeth to begin pulling at the strings of her corset.

“ _Oh_ —” Y/N gasped, because the sight of _that_ was one of the most arousing things she’d ever seen.

His gray eyes just flicked up for a moment, giving her a very triumphant and wicked grin, mouth still on her strings, before getting back to work pulling them and untying them.

Things became faster when he finally got the strings undone and was able to pull the corset away. He stared again for a long time, chest heaving, before he was kissing her and his hands were desperate on her skin. She pulled at his clothes, shrugging them off him, as he ran his hands across her jaw and down her neck, touching her breasts reverently for a long while, then moving across her abdomen and her hips before sweeping his hands around to pull her against him and press his fingertips into her back.

His hands glided along the bare skin of her spine, and she fought to contain a whimper.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured into her ear, and then they were stumbling toward the bed while discarding the rest of the clothing.

Without breaking the pattern of his lips on hers, she pulled him on top of her. He gathered her even closer and she arched toward him, mind going blissfully blank again at the feeling of the bare skin of his chest against hers. Prince Draco hovered over her, and for a long time he made her squirm and sigh under him while his mouth made the same journey on her skin that his hands had earlier.

When he finally met her mouth with his again she felt like she was about to go mad from desire. He seemed to be waiting for her to ask, so she did. “Draco,” she whispered. “Draco, please—”

“Your wish is and always will be my command, my love,” he breathed, pausing to look at her for a moment. His eyes were still black as night. His face was worshipful and reverent, eyes glazed. His hair was a mess and his lips were swollen and there was a flush across his cheeks.

His lips were light across her neck as she felt him began to slide between her thighs. Nerves clogged her throat but she lifted her hips higher, heart pounding so hard it hurt. Instinctively, she tangled her hands in his hair and pressed her upper body closer to his.

Draco’s hand ghosted along her leg, holding firmly to her hip—

The princess moved to hold his back, her fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks—

She gasped and stiffened when he moved forward, slow and gentle. He let out a stuttered groan when he entered, dropping his head into her neck, and then he paused for a long time to allow her to get used to him and also to steady himself, kissing her cheekbones and telling her how perfect she was, how beautiful, that he’d been dreaming about this for ages, that he wanted her _forever_ —

When she whispered to him to move, it felt like the magic that was in his fingertips. Warm, electric, fire. His hips rolled slowly at first, and then faster, and he watched her carefully between kissing her, paid attention to every sound and reaction to see which of his movements made her most reactive.

Her prince was attentive, patient, careful, intense. He was perfect and she wanted to stay here with him forever, always—

The same hint of desperation that tinged all of their interactions began to return. Hands flying across skin and teeth nibbling at lips and his whispers in her ear, and she felt the warm coil in her abdomen get tighter and tighter, and he was coaxing her higher and higher and higher until—

The coil broke, and she shattered in his arms. He joined her seconds later, dropping his head to her neck again and gripping her tightly to him, mumbling praise and profanities. She marveled at how he was shuddering against her, and her hands moved through his hair, stroking the blonde locks as they both slowly returned to normalcy, their breathing slowing and muscles relaxing.

Draco slipped off of her and gathered her closer, to his chest. “I love you,” he murmured after a while, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re so good. So good, so brave, so clever, so pretty...”

_The princess and the prince lay for a long time together in his bed, awash in the moonlight and shadows that danced across their skin from the window. Fingers traced skin and whispers were exchanged—more praise and promises, more declarations of love—until, exhausted from the energy expenditure of the evening, the prince fell into a deep sleep long before the princess did._

_Because the princess, as sleepy and sated as she was from her experience with the prince, and as much as she had loved it and being here with him, was beginning to feeling restless and sad._

_No longer did she feel that she could lie to Prince Draco, for she loved him deeply, and she knew that he loved her._

_And while she did ultimately trust him with her secret, she also feared the consequences of telling him. She feared that he would be angry with her, perhaps, and she feared the disappointment in his eyes when he would know that she had not been entirely honest from the beginning, even if the reasons for her doing so were sound._

_Worse was the prospect of telling him why, exactly, she had not wanted to tell him, because it would mean that she must be open about her suspicions regarding his family._

_The princess was also aware that she could not remain here throughout the night, and so she slipped out of his bed with regret and prepared herself to leave Prince Draco behind, despite how it saddened her; to leave for her quarters, where she planned to change clothes and again sneak out to the forest so that she may speak with and see her dragon whom she missed so terribly, and from whom she also desperately needed counsel about what she planned to do next._

_Things almost—but not quite—went according to the princess’s plan._

_For when she was finally about to sneak out of the castle in the dead of night, she heard a voice call her name from behind her, soft and distressed…_

“My lady,” said Prince Draco, and she stopped and turned to slowly turned to face him, feeling immensely guilty when she saw the sadness on his features. He stretched out a questioning hand. “When I woke, the bed was cold,” he continued, walking a few paces toward her and taking her hand in his. “Are you going to visit Jyrre?”

She stayed silent, unable to bring herself to lie to her lover once more, but the look on her face seemed to say it all, for his eyes suddenly filled with both indignation and hurt. “You’re going somewhere,” he said flatly. “Aren’t you? Did you even mean to return?”

“I want to stay,” choked the princess, squeezing his hand and feeling tears in her eyes. “I love you, and I want to stay, but I cannot. There is somewhere I must go.”

“Then let me come too,” he said, lacing his fingers with hers and looking determined.

She hesitated. “My prince,” she finally said in a low voice. “I have secrets.”

Draco smiled a little. “You think I had not guessed that already? I am also quite clever, you know."

She gave him a weak smile, but then bit her lip, still concerned. “You do not understand,” she said, voice wavering. “There are very good reasons I kept them from you. If you come with me…”

Draco’s eyes suddenly blazed bright in the darkness of the castle corridor. “If you will have me, I will come, and you should know I would never betray your secrets, whatever they may be.”

 _And w_ _hen the_ _secrets_ _implicate_ _the guilt of_ _your family, Draco?_ she wanted to cry out at him, though of course she could not. _When they make you choose between me and your kingdom?_

Perhaps even worse was the small, horrible, nagging voice in her head. Because while she knew he would never harm her directly, there was still that uncertainty, whispering, taunting:

_And what if he doesn’t choose me?_

“You do not understand,” she whispered, distressed.

“Then help me to understand,” he pressed. “Tell me, so I can help you.” He held up his other hand, letting the light burn on it for a moment as a reminder of the powers he could offer.

She sighed, resigning herself to the truth coming out.

“Very well,” she said. “But I will not tell you. I will show you.”

“Where will we go?”

A light had entered his eyes _—_ a light of adventure.

A surge of affection and love for him, entirely unwelcome at the moment when she was trying to remain cool and rational about it all, squeezed painfully at her heart.

“My home,” she answered quietly.

“You mean the forest?” he asked, confused.

“Not quite,” she said, pulling on his hand to lead him into the night.

_The prince and the secret princess—though she knew that her secret would not remain so to Draco for much longer, once she took him where she intended to go—made their way out of the castle, as quickly and quietly as thieves, careful not to be seen by any living soul._

_The prince’s hand never left hers as they made their way to forest to meet Jyrre._

_The princess hoped that his hand would remain there by the end of the night._


End file.
